The clearing felt like a localized arena, the air thick with the scent of crushed grass and the heavy, tallic vibration of the Pinsir's pincers snapping together. A year ago, this sound was the harbinger of a desperate, panicked sprint. Today, it was just the dinner bell for a long-overdue reckoning.
The Pinsir didn't just charge; he lowered his body, his powerful insectoid legs digging deep into the dirt as he surged forward like a biological battering ram. He was fast—Superior Class speed, honed by surviving the brutal hierarchy of the Eterna Forest. In the wild, a Pinsir like this was the apex.
"Floette, let's greet him with our newest trick! The one we spent all that ti on in the lab!" I shouted, a grin spreading across my face.
Floette didn't need to be told twice. As the Pinsir neared, close enough for to see the jagged chips in his horns, Floette's body began to pulse with a srizing, purplish-pink luminescence.
The Pinsir leapt, his giant pincers wide, ready to deliver a bone-crushing Vice Grip. But midway through the air, the laws of physics seed to take a vacation. A shimring wall of psychic energy slamd into his chest.
THOOM!
The Pinsir didn't just stop; he was launched backward as if he'd been hit by an invisible truck. He plowed a ten-foot-long gully through the flower bed before coming to a groggy halt, his legs kicking the air in confusion.
"That's the power of Psychic," I muttered, crossing my arms.
Technically, Floette shouldn't be able to learn a high-tier move like Psychic through natural growth. But being a researcher had its perks. I'd spent months back at the lab analyzing move-compatibility charts and digging through the Pokémon Association's archives. I had secured a high-grade Technical Machine (TM) for Psychic, knowing that we needed a way to deal with the heavy-hitting Poison and Fighting types that usually gave Fairies trouble.
Floette had struggled with it as a Flabébé—her tiny body just couldn't channel that much raw ntal energy—but after evolving and returning to Sinnoh, sothing had finally clicked.
"Well done, Floette! Grass moves won't do much against his armor, so let's use this as a live training session. Keep him in the air!"
"Floette-sound! (With pleasure!)"
Floette's mischievous side, which she usually kept hidden under a layer of elegance, ca out in full force. She raised her flower parasol like a conductor's baton. Every ti she flicked the flower up, the Pinsir was yanked twenty feet into the air. Every ti she swiped it down, he was slamd back into the dirt with a satisfying thud.
It was like watching a giant, angry beetle on a bungee cord. The Pinsir tried to use X-Scissor to cut through the energy, but you can't cut what you can't touch. Floette was laughing now, spinning him left and right, effectively giving him a preview of what it's like to be a Flying-type.
"Okay, okay, that's enough," I said after a few minutes, my own resentnt finally fading as the Pinsir started to look more like a dizzy puddle than a threat. "We've made our point. If we keep this up, we'll be the ones being 'fierce for no reason'."
Floette pouted, but she gave her flower one final, gentle flick, tossing the dizzy Pinsir into a soft patch of ferns. She drifted back toward , her breathing a bit heavy from the ntal strain, and reclaid her throne on top of my head.
"Floette! (Jing! Battle done! Reward ti!)" she demanded, tapping her flower against my forehead.
"You haven't changed a bit," I sighed, reaching into my backpack. "I've got so of that special Fairy-type nectar pokéblock you like. And a Leppa Berry to get your energy back."
I held the snacks up toward my head. I heard the frantic rustle of paper and then the rhythmic crunch-crunch-crunch of Floette feasting.
"Just rember," I warned, "don't get crumbs on—"
I stopped. I felt a cold, sticky sensation. A slow, viscous trail of Oran Berry juice and nectar was trickling down from my hair, over my forehead, and straight into the brim of my favorite traveling hat.
"Floette! I told you! No eating on my head!"
"Floette-sound? (Hehe, oops... it was too juicy to resist~)" She tried to sound cute, but I could hear the smugness in her voice.
"That's it! You're going back in the ball, and you're officially banned from lunch today! You've already had your dessert!"
I pulled out her Poké Ball and clicked the recall button before she could protest. Zzzzt. The red light pulled her in, leaving alone in the clearing with a sticky head and a dizzy beetle.
I looked over at the Pinsir. He was finally sitting up, his eyes spinning in circles. He looked pathetic, a far cry from the monster that had haunted my dreams a year ago. I reached into my bag and pulled out a high-quality Sitrus Berry, tossing it onto the grass near him.
"Here," I said quietly. "That'll help with the bruising. And seriously, pick on soone your own size next ti. There are humans out here who are way scarier than ."
With a final look at the clearing, I turned and headed back toward the main path.
The Post-Battle Cleanup
Ten minutes later, I was sitting on a fallen log near a small forest stream. My backpack was off, and I was going through what had beco a mandatory ritual.
"Seriously, why do I even wear a hat?" I grumbled, scrubbing my hair with a travel-sized bottle of shampoo. "Between Floette's nectar and Togepi's occasional 'accidents', I spend more ti washing my hair than I do training."
I rinsed my head in the cool stream water, shivering as the breeze hit my damp scalp. Then ca the hat. I sprayed it with a heavy-duty enzy cleaner—another "essential" item in my kit—and scrubbed the brim until the purple juice stains vanished.
"I have a dedicated 'hat-washing' muscle mory now," I muttered to a passing Kricketot. "This is not what the brochures promised for a Pokémon journey."
I wiped my head with a microfiber towel and hung the damp hat on a carabiner on the back of my pack to let it air-dry. With my hair still slightly damp and ssy, I stood up and hoisted my gear.
"Alright. Revenge mission: accomplished. Hat: washed. Pride: mostly intact."
I looked at the path ahead. The Eterna Forest was massive, and while we had settled an old grudge, the real challenge lay further north. Eterna City was ho to Gardenia, the Grass-type Gym Leader, and she was notorious for her tactical use of status moves.
"Let's go, guys," I said to the Poké Balls on my belt. "Next stop, the Forest Badge. And maybe a hotel with a real shower."
As I walked, the shadows of the forest lengthened, but for the first ti in a year, I didn't feel like I was being chased. I felt like I belonged here.
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